Encounters of the sexual kind
by STANathanXOox
Summary: As the title suggests, these stories will be chapters about Meredith Brody and Chris LaSalle and their sexual encounters. This story is an AU and they have known each other for a very long time. Anyway I hope you like it! Pease read and review. Rated M right off the bat.


**HEY, GUYS SO THIS IS MY FIRST EVERY NCIS NOLA FANFIC AND I HAD THIS IDEA FOR CHRIS AND MEREDITH AS I'VE BEEN A MASSIVE SHIPPER OF THE TWO SINCE THE VERY BEGINNING OF THE SERIES. THIS IS AN AU STORY WHERE CHRIS AND MERI HAVE KNOWN EACH OTHER FOR A VERY LONG TIME. I HOPE YOU ENJOY AND PLEASE REVIEW.**

As he does most nights, Chris is lying on his bed, staring at the white ceiling above him and trying his damn hardest to not think about Meredith. Of course, the world is cruel and so the harder he tries, the more he ends up thinking about her.

He loves her, of this, he has no doubt. Maybe he _is_ too young to know what love is (being eighteen years old, and all), but what he knows with utmost certainty is that his feelings towards her are unlike anything he's ever felt for anyone else. If he's being honest with himself, these feelings have always been present, simmering just below the surface, ever since they were ten years old and she punched Jake Daniels in the year above when he'd called Chris a fag. Chris and Meredith have been inseparable since he was seven and she was six when they'd discovered their shared love for dinosaurs and space. They knew everything about each other and supported one another through the hard times and the good, Chris had just found out that his older brother Cade had been diagnosed with Bi-polar and was struggling to cope with that but Mere knew exactly how to care for him.

It's taken him a while to admit it. The _knowledge_ has always been there written on an imaginary scrap of paper floating in the depths of his mind, but for the longest time, he'd been too afraid to unfold the piece of paper and thoroughly examine the words written on it. Chris doesn't know when exactly his brain decided to have a heart-to-heart with itself, but what he does know is that sometime in the last couple of years, he's gone from caring for Merri like he would care for his sister and brother, to loving her, the way he imagines he should be loving the love of his life.

It's a little hard to do when his feelings aren't reciprocated, but he makes do.

His love for Meredith manifests itself as a warm feeling in his chest whenever Meredith is within his line of sight. He likes her soft brown hair and the way she throws her head back when she's howling with laughter. Her eyes are beautiful, big and brown and so expressive — he's learnt to know exactly what she's thinking just by looking into those beauties. And her smile, _god_ , her smile. It's so inviting and warm, it could probably melt ice.

They're best friends, so she's not shy about being naked or partially clothed around him. He tries to avert his gaze, but now and then he gets glimpses of her body — when she's dressed in a sports bra and cropped leggings after a run, for instance — and can't help but admire her wonderfully lithe figure. He itches to run his hands all over that soft, tanned skin.

Chris knows he's not the only one. She's had numerous boyfriends in the last couple of years, ever since she turned fifteen and boys started noticing her, and he knows that she's fooled around with guys before. They don't talk about things like that a lot, but whenever she comes crying to him after some asshole broke her heart, he finds that he's torn between punching the jerk's lights out and spilling his heart to her.

A gentle, persistent tapping on his window draws him from his reverie.

He sighs. Speak of the devil. There's only one person in the world crazy enough to get to his room by climbing the tree outside his window, and it's the exact person on his mind.

Chris moves to get out of bed. It's then he realises that he's got nothing on, and he's at half-mast. Thinking about Meredith will often do that to him. He eyes his dresser on the other side of the room and wonders if he can dash to it to at least pull on a pair of boxers. The tapping on the window becomes a little louder, more insistent, and Chris doesn't want to let it go on any longer, lest his parents hear and wake up. So, with a resigned sigh, he wraps his blankets around his waist and shuffles over to the window.

"Chris!" Merri cries, too loudly for this time of night. She's precariously perched on the closest branch, gripping the windowsill for balance. He glares at her, because _what is she doing?_ but wordlessly grabs her hand to tug her in.

"What're you doing here, you knucklehead?" he asks as she clambers through. He winces as her boots thunk loudly on the floor. Mere reeks of smoke and alcohol and her movements are uncoordinated. She's clearly been drinking.

"Needed a place to crash. Didn't want to go home and risk my parents catching me," she slurs, leaning heavily against his side as he wraps an arm around her shoulders to guide her to the bed.

"Where've you been?"

She hums, "Bethany's. She had a little get together going on,". As she speaks, she drops her bag and starts stripping off her boots, socks and jacket, leaving them in a messy pile on the floor. Underneath, she has a little black dress with skinny straps. It hugs her body perfectly and Chris looks away to avoid staring at her delectable ass for too long.

"Yeah, well, you take the bed," he says, "I'll take the floor,". Out of the corner of his eye, he can see her kneeling on the bed and shuffling towards the centre.

Meri whips around and looks at him incredulously, "Why?". He turns to face her and groans internally. She's on all fours like a cat and the position highlights the gentle arch of her back. It's also sending the wrong signals to his dick and making him think highly inappropriate thoughts.

"Because you're…" his voice trails off and he ends up making vague gestures at her body. She lets out a sound that is half-snort, half-chuckle and shakes her head in amusement. Meredith kneels on the bed and holds her hands out to him in a placating manner.

"Don't be silly," she murmurs, "We've shared a bed plenty of times. 'Sides, you've got the blankets, and the floor ain't that comfy. Plus, you're warm,". She pats the bed beside her, a silent invitation to get in. Then, she flashes him her puppy eyes that never fail to melt his heart and, despite knowing that he's going to severely regret his decision, Chris gets into bed beside her.

"See? Not that bad!", she says, shuffling up the bed until she's leaning against the headboard. She grabs hold of the blankets and pulls them over her legs.

Chris makes a strangled panicking noise because he suddenly remembers that he's naked and she's about to realise this. "Well, at least let me— Meri, _what_ …ohh-kaay,".

His surprise is due to the fact that Meri has pulled down the zipper at the side of the dress and is now pulling it off over her head. "Jeez, Meri, are you okay?" he hisses, turning to face the window so that he's looking the other way. She's not wearing a bra, and he doesn't want to find out if she's wearing underwear.

"Oh, don't be such a prissy!" Meri teases, scooting closer so she can pull more of the blankets over her body. Instinctively, he flinches away so that she won't discover that he's in the nude, but she's having none of that. Ignoring his weak protests, she arranges their bodies so that she's pressed against his side, her head pillowed on his chest and his arm slung over her shoulder.

Yep. She's definitely naked.

Chris prays that she doesn't notice the very evident erection he's sporting. If she does, at least she's not making a fuss. Maybe there's enough alcohol in her system that she'll forget about it by the morning. Even so, he makes one last attempt at disentangling himself to tug on a pair of boxers, but a distressed grunt makes him think twice.

"Please stay. I need you," she whispers. There's something in her voice that makes him think that this cuddle session is not playful in the slightest. She sounds scared.

"Meri, I—"

"I know. It's okay, Chris, it's okay,". It's then that he realises that her body is trembling — it's so slight that if they weren't pressed together he wouldn't have noticed. Soon after he makes this realization, he feels wetness pooling on his chest.

"Meri," he murmurs, his hand stroking up and down her arm comfortingly, "What happened?"

"Nothing," she sniffles.

He waits.

"James…. you know him? Well, we were flirting. And drunk. And…he…he tried to force me. God, I was so scared. I left the party pretty soon after,". The last words come out choked and hurried like it's a struggle to get them out.

"Oh Meri,". His arms tighten around her and he lets her sob into his chest. As awkward as their predicament may be, Chris knows that he can't leave her alone, not when she's this terrified.

He gasps when he feels her fingers tickling the base of his cock. Her tears and distress had made it go soft, but her touch sent a surge of blood rushing south. "Help distract me?" she pleads, looking up at him through glistening eyes and tear-soaked lashes.

Chris's brain is spinning. The voice of lust and the voice of reason have declared war and are charging into battle. Every clash of their metaphorical swords send sparks flying through his mind. One part of him yearns to know the feel of her soft hand wrapped around his member. The other part of him doesn't want to do anything with her, at least not when she's confused and distressed like this. He pinches the bridge of his nose. Chris half hopes that this is just some sick, twisted dream.

He pushes her hand away and shakes his head firmly, "No, Meri. You're drunk. I…I don't want to do something you'll regret,".

"I won't regret it!" she insists, "I've wanted you since forever, Chrisie. Please?"

His heart skips a beat, but his internal voice is telling him that she doesn't mean it the way he wants her to mean it. _It's just the alcohol talking,_ he rationalises. Though her tone is sincere and her eyes are vulnerable and open, he doesn't want to risk it. "I can't take advantage of you, Meri," he sighs, "If…if you till want it, I'm gonna be here in the morning. You can try again,".

Meredith is silent for a minute, before settling back down against his side, stretching out so that as much skin is touching as possible. "Just hold me, then? Please?".

He obliges, settling against the pillow and pulling her body towards his. She burrows in closer, her thigh dangerously close to her half-hard dick, but it seems she has heeded his words and has no intention of messing about tonight. Chris is painfully aware of the fact that her bare breasts are pressing against his ribs but is stoically ignoring this information. He stares at the ceiling and counts her breaths. Only when they deepen and slow down in the way they do when she's fallen asleep does he let out the tension in his body and relax against her, waiting for fatigue to overtake him. It's a difficult task, considering the fact that he's still at half-mast, but the gentle rise and fall of her body is enough to lull him to sleep.

In the morning, he wakes up before her. Meri's got her cheek pillowed on her hand and is facing away from him, curled up on her side. She's managed to tuck his arm into the crook of her neck. The blankets have slipped and are exposing the glorious expanse of bare skin that is her back. Thankfully, everything essential is still covered, but the sight of her skin and the feel of her body against his only serves to highlight her nakedness.

This does nothing to help the morning hard-on that Chris's currently sporting.

Distantly, he wonders whether the current situation of his cock is, in fact, a remnant of last night. Did his dick ever soften? With these thoughts in mind, Chris manages to gently pry his arm from underneath Mere, replacing it with his pillow. She stirs and makes a disgruntled noise, but doesn't wake up. Most of the house is still asleep this early in the morning and Chris fully intends to take advantage of this.

He pads softly towards the bathroom, pulling from the dresser some sweats, a pair of boxers and a t-shirt along the way. He turns on the shower and steps into the stream of warm water, fighting back a moan as it splashes on his aching cock. Chris squirts a little conditioner in his palm in lieu of lube and runs his slicked-up palm along his shaft in a loose fist. His eyes roll back and his knees tremble a little from the much-needed friction.

It takes a ridiculously small amount of time to get off.

Chris has a lot of accumulated sexual tension and does not plan on drawing this masturbatory session out, not with Mere ie still asleep in his bed. He tightens his fist and jerks off hard and fast — faster than he normally takes it — and uses his free hand to gently tug and massage his balls. The familiar tightening of his belly precedes his orgasm and he leans his shoulders and head against the cool tiles of the shower stall, waiting in breathless anticipation. When he comes, he stuffs a fist in his mouth and bites down on his knuckles to stifle the low groans that he makes. Ribbons of spunk spray onto the glass door of the shower but are soon washed away by the water.

When he's done with his shower, he leaves a pile of his clothes at the foot of the bed for Meri to wear when she wakes up. He notes — with no small amount of pride — that she has wrapped her arms around his pillow and has buried her nose in it as if inhaling his scent. It's probably not what she's doing, it's probably just the most comfortable position for her, but his love-struck brain would like to pretend otherwise.

He goes for a long walk to clear his mind. When he returns, nearly two hours later, she's gone.


End file.
